


Blood of Persephone.

by melbopo



Category: Shadowhunters (TV), The Shadowhunter Chronicles - All Media Types
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/F, Fae!Clary, First Meetings, Meet-Cute, Somehow very similar to canon and yet very different, Werewolf!Maia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-19
Updated: 2020-01-19
Packaged: 2021-02-27 06:14:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22322398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/melbopo/pseuds/melbopo
Summary: There is something alluring about the unfamiliar face at the bar that encourages Maia to lower her guard. Perhaps it's  their beauty or maybe the mischief in their eyes, or just how unaffected they are by Jace's charm, but regardless they might be Maia's new faevorite customer.
Relationships: Clary Fray/Maia Roberts
Kudos: 9





	Blood of Persephone.

**Author's Note:**

> This is a ridiculous fic inspired purely by the fact it snowed yesterday and I thought Maia might like it - hope you enjoy!

Maia doesn’t notice them at first. And she has no excuse, the bar isn’t even busy.

She's merely at the other end of the counter, drying glasses to pass the time until the end of her shift. When she looks up to see if anyone needs a refill, she realizes there is a new face. They sit alone at the bar, empty chairs on either side of them, just waiting to be served, waiting for her.

Which now that she notices them, it is kinda surprising because the sound of the door opening always draws Maia’s attention no matter where in the bar she is, just in case, and she definitely would remember them.

Their pale fair skin glows in contrast to their fiery red hair and in the dim setting of the bar, their eyes manage to reflect the lights all around them. Not including their almost visual aura to them, their sheer maroon full length dress paired with rich red lipstick further others them by being far too elegant for this place. Their red hair is even nicely done, separated down the middle and half pulled back, with gentle waves framing their face. The least fancy thing about them is the simple gold necklace that rests on their collarbone, a single rock attached to it. They look far too beautiful, bordering otherworldly, to be sitting in a bar this out of the way in Brooklyn.

Needless to say, Maia definitely would’ve noticed their entrance. It’s almost as if between one blink and the next they appeared in that seat. The only thing that belies that notion is the wide berth everyone else seems to be giving them, as if sensing the difference radiating from this newcomer.

They look up at Maia suddenly from across the bar as if sensing her gaze. They smile wide and friendly, making Maia blush from both being noticed dallying and surprise at receiving such a smile from a stranger. They don’t seem annoyed in the slightest as Maia approaches, their smile only warms. It catches Maia off guard and she fights a smile in response.

“Sorry to have kept you waiting.” She greets as she stops across from the stranger. “What can I get for you?”

They raise both their shoulders in a light shrug, smile not wavering in the slightest. “I was not here long and I can be quite quiet when I want to be.” They wink as if this is some inside joke between them. “I would like a drink, please.”

“Sure, what kind?”

Their smile falters for a moment as uncertainty passes over their features. “What do you recommend?”

“Well, what do you usually like?”

They laugh quietly to themselves, tossing their hair back as they do. “Sorry, I am not from here.”

Maia tilts her head at that statement. Sometimes these vague requests annoy her. How can she possibly make a drink someone will like if they don’t at least share what sort of liquor or flavors they like? It’s almost as if this is their first time ordering a drink... Maia assumed their slight, pure muscular frame made them look younger but perhaps it’s rooted in truth. Maia knows they’re at least 21 because it's a requirement to even get through the door. And Magnus created that ward himself so the likelihood of it failing is nonexistent.

Plus, their accent is definitely American, most likely East Coast. Surely the drinks can’t be that different in Boston. Curiosity picks at the back of her brain, intrigue over what that statement could possibly mean.

“What do you drink where you’re from then?”

They trace one of the knots of wood on the counter in front of them, bottom lip jutting out as they concentrate. It makes them look a little more human, less otherworldly. “My favorite drinks are dew or nectars.”

Maia nods her head slowly. “I refuse to serve any sort of drink that contains mountain dew on principle but I can make you a juice based cocktail.”

Their eyebrows pull together for a moment before nodding.

Maia answers with her own little nod before turning around to get to work. She picks the first juice drink that comes to her that isn’t made of any overly sugary, sweet juice. Nectars tend not to have added sugars and be a little more on the tart side.

She measures out pomegranate juice, orange liqueur, and vodka in a mixer. She squeezes half a lime into the mix before before shaking up the container. She grabs a cocktail glass and pours out the concoction when she’s done, being sure to add a twist of lime for the final aesthetic.

Maia returns to the newcomer, unsurprised to see they are no longer alone. People that beautiful are rarely unaccompanied for long.

It seems Jace appeared in her absence and is trying to posture for their attention. He’s leaning back against the bar top in a way that accents his biceps and highlights his sharp jawline in profile. She’s seen many fall prey to his charm, herself included, so she’s surprised they don’t even spare him a glance. 

“What’s a girl as beautiful as yourself doing tonight?”

Their eyebrows twitch but their face remains blank, gazing off in the general direction of where Maia stands. They respond blandly, clearly unaffected by the Jace Charm™. “I am not a girl but you can use she or they pronouns for me.” When they realize Maia has returned, they smile again, coming back to themselves. “And I am having a drink.” 

“Oh are you one of those feminists that only calls themselves a woman or something?”

“Or something.” They mutter with a grin, accepting Maia’s drink with both hands. Their eyes shine bright and Maia has the undeniable feeling they have a mischievous streak in them.

They bring the cup to their lips and Maia realizes it’s almost the exact shade as their lipstick. She can’t help wondering if it was an unconscious decision on her part to go with pomegranate instead of cranberry because it’s darker in color, a better match to their lips.

Their face pulls back into a frown at the first sip.

Maia bites her bottom lip, worried that going minimally sweet was the wrong call. She doesn’t want to have made a drink they don’t like. “Too tart?”

Their eyes widen as they shake their head quickly. “Oh no! It is just sharper than I am used to. It burns a little but I quite like it!”

“That’d be the vodka.” Maia chuckles, feeling even more sure about her earlier assumption of the naivety to alcohol of the patron. It’s a good sign of her bartending skills if they can taste the vodka over the often strong flavor of pomegranate.

“And does this _drink_ have a name? I know how fond you all are of naming things and I would like to be able to ask for it again.” They seem genuine in their question, making their enjoyment of the drink obvious.

“Blood of Persephone.”

“I don’t taste the blood…” Confusion passes over their face briefly before their eyes widen in shock. “Wait, do you serve blood here?”

They managed to look both horrified and amused. As if they know they should be unsettled but they are actually interested.

Maia freezes, suddenly petrified the person across from her has so little shadow world in their blood they’re practically a mundane. It would explain their otherness and innocence as well as how they passed Magnus’s cloaking wards against mundanes.

She doesn’t quite know how to respond so they won’t panic over the presence of the things said to go bump in the night, but she also wants to gauge if there is a need to tighten security on the wards and wipe their memory. “Yes and no, we do serve blood to keep our vampire customers happy but your drink has no blood in it, it’s just the name.”

“Ohhh…” They nod their head slowly as this settles in. They mutter to themselves. “Vampires.”

They don’t seem petrified or surprised by the notion of vampires frequenting a bar for blood so Maia takes it as they know about other shadow world entities at least. They take another sip, this time without a grimace. 

“Let me get your first drink for being so rude and assuming your gender. I should know better, I have non-binary friends.” Jace says sauvely, clearly trying to recover from his earlier blunder and still catch the beautiful stranger’s eye. “Maia, can you add their blood whatever to my tab please?”

Maia nods even though she sort of hates him for calling her name, making it obvious they know each other beyond just a bartender and a patron. Plus, it’s not like there is anyone else behind the counter to fulfill his request.

She goes over to the register and adds the drink to the bill just the same. She can’t help but notice that once again, they don’t move. They reply sweetly, though they don't look over at him. “Thank you.”

Maia watches confusion bloom across Jace’s face. It’s nice to see something be difficult for him for a change. The intensely cocky facade cracks on Jace, briefly revealing his insecurities. It reminds her of his humanity and that his ego is mostly a cover up for everything else he feels he falls short at. She takes pity on him and tries to help with an introduction at the very least.

“I see you’ve met Jace Lightwood.”

“Yes.” For the briefest of moments, their eyes flick to Jace as if to catalog him before looking back to Maia. “I am Clary, and you are Maia.”

They say it like a statement, Maia’s name, like they already knew it, but Maia nods just the same to confirm. The conversation falls into a lull again but this time Maia doesn’t bother to revive it. That was her one good deed for Jace Lightwood for the year, she’s done. Perhaps they’re just not interested in generic Hollywood shadowhunters.

Jace doesn’t seem quite so keen to give up though. He tries again to gain their attention with a new line of conversation.

“So Clary, what made you choose this bar tonight? This must be your first time because I definitely would have remembered your face before.”

"It is." They shrug, finger once again tracing the rings in the wood. “Maia is beautiful so I came in and the wards told me I was old enough to have a drink so here I am.”

They raise their drink as if that explains everything. It seems to for Jace for he nods as if this is perfectly logical.

It doesn’t feel that way to Maia, it doesn’t even feel _real_. If the person across from her had been anything other than warm and friendly, she’d think it’s a prank. Her cheeks burn crimson at hearing someone so beautiful call _her_ beautiful just the same.

“She has a boyfriend though.” Jace supplies and Maia shoots him a glare for talking on her behalf like he even knows her. They hooked up once and she serves him regularly at the bar, that’s it.

“Okay.” Clary doesn’t seem phased by this information in the slightest. “She’s still beautiful.”

“Thanks.” Maia respondes sharper than she means too, feeling annoyingly flustered from Clary’s gaze and warm smile. She uses her anger at Jace to ground herself from floating away on her own melting heart and mix of emotions. “But your information is outdated, Simon and I broke up last week.”

Jace’s genuine surprise startles him, causing his elbows to slip off the counter so he stands up straight. “Oh.”

“Yeah.” Maia responds in a flat tone, making her disapproval clear.

He remains confused with eyebrows scrunched down. He’s clearly lost in thought, responding in fragmented sentences. “Well I’ll... gotta go... Nice to meet you.”

Clary doesn’t even register Jace’s departure, their eyes remain fixed on Maia. Their expression is full of concern. “Did this Simon person break your heart?”

Maia scoffs, picking up a cloth to distract herself. She wipes down some glasses as she responds. “No. Yes? Sort of. I broke up with him." She shakes her head, wiping the counter now. "It turns out he only cares about his dreams, not about mine. Like my dreams weren’t as important as his, like I didn't have a real say in our future, _my_ future.” She mutters to herself, almost like a scolding. “Just like my last boyfriend.”

She doesn’t even know why she’s even saying this, it’s as if Clary has this presence that lowers her guard, makes her want to share things. Isn't it supposed to be the other way around? Aren't the patrons supposed to tell their secrets to the bartender? It must be that genuine, open smile with their calm aura. It’s nice and scary in equal measure, something she absolutely rather not look into right now.

Suddenly, a cold soft hand rests on Maia’s, gently stopping her motions. “I am sorry that happened. You are right, your dreams are important.”

Maia glances up, genuinely touched by such tenderness and earnesty from a stranger. She offers a small smile as thanks but says nothing more, suddenly feeling too vulnerable.

Clary pulls back their hand as they take another sip of their drink before continuing. “My mother always says boys are taught to only look after themselves while girls have to bend for everyone else, and for those that don’t fit into either of those boxes, well they’re taught they don’t even exist. It’s unfair and highly limiting, not even factoring in that it is simply not true.”

As Clary talks, the more worked up they get. Their cheeks pinken and eyebrows knit, somehow managing to look cute even when scowling.

“Your mom is right.” Maia remembers Clary’s comment from earlier about not being around here, her interest renewed in getting to know the cute stranger across from her. “So what brings you to Brooklyn if you’re not from here?”

“Love.”

“Oh.” Maia tries desperately to keep the disappointment from her tone. She mostly feels confused by all the signs that Clary’s putting out. Or maybe she was just looking too deeply into their friendliness.

Something that looks very close to glee shines in Clary’s eyes, their expression smooths into a smile. “My mother recently learned an old love she mourned for decades is alive so she’s been visiting him.” Clary glances around, leaning in to add. “I’m not supposed to follow her here but it’s lonely and boring to be all by myself at home so I decided to go on my own adventure, maybe find love of my own.”

That mischievous look is back in Clary’s eyes, making Maia grin her own understanding. She tries not to read too much into Clary’s words about finding love but the way her mind keeps circling back to it is a clear sign she’s failing. She might be developing a little ember of her own crush.

“Plus, I like the feeling of this place. It feels like it could be home too. Even though it is much colder than what I’m used to and I did not come prepared.”

“Any place that feels like home is a place worth exploring.” Maia agrees easily. She shakes her head. “It’s been really cold this week and now I’m hoping for snow.”

“You want _more_ cold?” Clary sounds personally hurt by such a statement.

“If it’s going to be cold enough for it, it might as well. I love walking home when it's snowing and it's just started accumulating. It lays, white and undisturbed everywhere, giving a new look to things already familiar.” Maia shrugs to herself, suddenly feeling silly at sharing this tidbit out loud. “It just makes me feel hopeful.”

“It sounds beautiful when you say it like that.”

Suddenly, the sound of the bar counter slamming down startles both Maia and Clary from their little snow dreaming world. She didn’t realize how absorbed into their conversation, into Clary, she’d become. Elias shoos their hands at her.

“Get out of here, your shift ended ten minutes ago.” 

“I’m going. I’m going.” Maia mumbles back good naturedly.

Once again Clary puts their hand on Maia’s, grounding her. “Oh I am quite sorry if I kept you late.”

“It’s okay, I liked talking to you.”

A blush blooms across Clary’s cheeks, all the way to the tips of their ears. Their smile grows slowly. They look down at Maia’s hand in theirs. “Me too.” They tilt their head to the side for a moment. “I shall see you soon, Maia.”

“Okay.” She suddenly feels shy, debating the merits of sharing her phone number with a stranger. Perhaps if she runs into Clary again… then she’ll feel more comfortable. They also didn’t say how long they’ll be in town, who knows how long their adventure will last and Maia _lives_ here. She’s just started setting roots. “Good night Clary.”

Maia heads to the back staff room to put on her winter gear before stepping foot in the New York City bitter cold. She waves to Elias on her way out the front door. She wraps her arms around herself as she tredges towards the metro station to take her home. She keeps her face tilted down against the wind, eyes focused on kicking the barely ½ inch accumulation of snow into a mini ball as she walks.

It takes almost two blocks for her to remember there was no snow on her way into work earlier and definitely no snow in the weather forecast for that day. Maia pauses in her walking, looking up to watch the soft white snowflakes fall from the sky, landing in her curls, her coat, her outstretched hand. She basks in the snowfall for a moment, just enjoying the quiet and beauty that snow always seems to bring, even to the city that does not sleep. They’ve had very little snow all season so she’s wants to appreciate it while it lasts. When she opens her eyes, she sees Clary up ahead, back towards her. But she’d recognize that red hair and sheer dress anywhere.

As Maia approaches, her ears pick up the soft melodic tune coming from Clary’s lips. The language is not one Maia’s familiar with in the slightest. It’s gorgeous.

Upon closer approach, she realizes Clary underplayed their lack of preparedness for the weather for they aren’t even wearing a coat right now! They’re simply standing in their sheer maroon dress in the middle of the snow storm. 

“Clary, do you need a coat?” Concern bleeds into Maia’s words.

The singing stops and Clary turns, their confused expression morphing into one of understanding and joy. "What? Oh I am okay, thank you." They grin, gesturing around them. “How do you like your snow?”

Maia smiles as she tilts her head back, attempting to catch a snowflake on her tongue before responding. “It’s perfect.”

“Good.” Clary beams even brighter, as if personally responsible for making Maia’s snowy walk home dreams a reality.

Wait…

If Clary’s apart of the shadow world then they _might_ be able to.

Maia can’t help it. She blurts out the question, feeling both relieved and foolish the moment it leaves her mouth. “Did you do this for me?”

“Of course.” Clary responds easily, as if it is that simple. Perhaps it is and perhaps Maia’s overthinking this a little bit. “I asked the winds to ask the clouds for snow and they delivered. You have dreams and you deserve nice things.”

Maia’s eyes widen in surprise and awe. She can’t stop the way her heart beats faster at those words. The last sentence seems non sequitur but sounds right just the same. She feels completely out of her element but she somehow knows Clary means every word. She ignores her wildly beating heart, focusing instead on how this is even possible.

She’s heard of some warlocks manipulating weather but not large scale like this and not by talking to the wind. Her curiosity only grows. Her voice is a little breathy with awe at such a display of power. “What are you?”

“Fae of course.” Clary tilts their head as if surprised by the question. “I thought it was obvious.”

“Nope.” Maia says with a grin, amused by Clary’s reaction. “I’ve never met a Fae before.”

Clary rolls their eyes playfully as if Maia is being silly. “Of course you have, you just did not know it.”

“Probably.” She concedes with a single raise of her shoulder. “What else can you do?”

Clary smiles. “Next time. I have to get back home before my mother but next time, we can talk more, learn more about each other if you would like.”

“I would like that very much.” 

“Here.” Clary reaches up behind their neck. Their hands come forward, holding either end of the simple necklace. “Keep my heart so you know I’ll come back.”

“This is your heart?” Maia whispers, fascinated by the jagged stone in her palm.

Clary winks, eyes mischievous again. “Next time. For now, good night Maia.”

And with that, between one blink and the next, Clary disappears down a dark side street, leaving Maia with a necklace and the warm feeling growing in her stomach as the only proof they were even there at all. It's enough for Maia for she knows they'll keep their word.

She's looking forward to their next time.

**Author's Note:**

> I really love the idea of Clary being able to speak to the wind and control the weather as Fae, and they do these little things to make Maia smile and also cause trouble...
> 
> L O L i have so many more thoughts about this universe
> 
> Thanks for supporting my poorly updating butt 💞


End file.
